


I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

by servecobwebheadaches



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Bottom Brendon, Christmas, Fluff, Homophobia, Icy Roads, M/M, Original Character(s), Ryden, Shopping, Smut, Snow, Teasing, Top Ryan, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servecobwebheadaches/pseuds/servecobwebheadaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan surprises Brendon with a trip to Alaska over Christmas, and for Ryan . . . Brendon hasn't bought a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Someone is homophobic in this fic, but it goes away pretty fast.

The apartment was only lit with two dim lamps, the streetlights outside the windows blurred with the steady fall of Los Angeles winter rain.  Brendon was curled up on the couch with his cell phone, frantically flipping between texting Jon and Spencer—"What does Ryan want for Christmas??"

"He didn't tell me," Spencer replied.

"No fucking clue," Jon said.

"Well what did you buy him!?" Brendon tapped.

"An iTunes gift card...?" Spencer said.

"A fedora," Jon said.

"Well fuck."  Brendon wouldn't allow such petty things as Christmas gifts for his boyfriend to pass, yet he had no idea what to buy.  

The door of the apartment opened, and Ryan stepped in, completely soaked from the rain.  His teeth were audibly chattering; he was carrying two coffees and a small Starbucks bag.  Brendon rushed to the door to help him, taking everything from him and setting it down in the kitchen.  "Thanks, babe," Ryan breathed.  "It's freezing outside.  Might as well be snowing."

"Let's get you warmed up.  Dry clothes," Brendon said.  They walked into the bedroom.  Ryan stripped out of his dripping clothes down to his boxers, and Brendon brought him a towel.

Once Ryan was comfortably swamped in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, Brendon threw a blanket over him on the couch and turned the heat up in the apartment.  The coffee and pastries Ryan brought home were still steaming hot, and Brendon sat with them on the couch. Ryan looked at the coffees to determine his from Brendon's.  He knew that the caffeine would do nothing besides make Brendon tired at this hour, having the reverse effect on Brendon than it did on most.  "Okay, okay, this one is yours," Ryan said, handing Brendon a cup.  He opened the bag and pulled out a couple croissants.

"Mm, thank you for going out and getting these for me.  Even though you got soaked."

"It's not a big deal."  Ryan looked at Brendon and grinned.

"What is it?" Brendon asked.

"I've got to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"It's early to give you your Christmas present, but . . . Your Christmas present starts tomorrow," Ryan said.

"What do you mean?"

"So . . . Tomorrow we're getting on a flight, and we're going to Alaska, and we're going to spend the week of Christmas there," Ryan explained.

"Really?  We're going to Alaska?"  Brendon said, a tone of excitement in his voice.

"Yeah.  My Christmas present to you."  Brendon's smile quickly faded into a frown.  "Is something wrong?" Ryan worried.

"I haven't bought you anything for Christmas," Brendon admitted.

"Don't worry about it.  This is my present too."

"But—"

"Just enjoy it."

<<<<<>>>>>

The next day, Brendon was fretting again on the way to the airport, but over something entirely different.  "What if people see us?" He said.

"Eh, they won't.  I rented a secluded place."

"But at the airports, and in the city if we go . . ."

"Relax, B.  I planned this more than Seattle."  Ryan reached across the center console for Brendon's hand, tapping his thigh invitingly.

Brendon nodded.  "Okay."  He smiled, reassured, and intertwined his fingers with Ryan's.

They got through the airport and security without a problem, blending in with crowds.  Brendon was looking around at all the shops and Christmas decorations in the airport, thinking of Ryan.  He wondered if he could sneak away from Ryan for a few minutes to buy him something, but he had no idea what he would buy.  "Lover?  You want anything here?" Brendon asked.

"No, I'm okay."

Brendon was trying to get Ryan anything to make up for the fact he probably wasn't getting a Christmas gift.  "I'm excited for this week," Brendon said to change the topic.

"Good.  So am I.  It'll be nice to just be . . . alone with you," Ryan said.

"We don't get enough time together without everyone around, do we?"

"Not at all."

They boarded the plane, and before they even took off, Ryan was cold.  He put on a leather jacket to warm himself up, taking fingerless gloves out of his pocket.  "You're gonna be so cold in Alaska," Brendon said.

Ryan quirked an eyebrow at him.  "Just won't go outside much," he clucked.  Brendon shook his head with an adoring smile.  "I love you so much," Ryan murmured, leaning in closer to Brendon.

"I love you too."  And yet, Brendon still felt guilty.  Ryan was doing all of this for him, and Brendon had done—well, nothing for Ryan this Christmas.  Brendon couldn't stop thinking about it.

Ryan closed his eyes, head resting against Brendon's.  "We should get some sleep," Ryan whispered.

"You do that," Brendon whispered back.  He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep through the flight; he never could.

<<<<<>>>>>

Ryan awoke as an announcement was made that the plane was landing.  He blinked his eyes open for a moment, lifted his head, and caught Brendon's stare.  Ryan dropped his head back onto Brendon's shoulder when the noise stopped, quickly falling asleep again.  Brendon petted his hair, quite tired himself.  He saved Ryan from the scare of being jolted awake when the plane touched the ground by whispering to him.  "Ryan, baby, we're about to land.  Hey, Ryan, wake up . . ."

"Okay, yeah."  He sat up and rubbed his eyes.  "Did you get any sleep?"

Brendon shook his head.  "I'm alright, though."

"We still have to buy some winter jackets, and rent a car," Ryan said.  "And then find the place."

"Right."

Eventually, the made their way off the plane and through the unfamiliar airport.  They'd brought a mostly empty suitcase to fill up with heavy winter coats.  Before going outside, they located a shop of winter gear.  "How about you go find whatever you want and I'll go find whatever I want—then we'll meet at the check-out?" Ryan suggested.

"Sure."

The two took longer than planned picking out a simple jacket, and when they met at the check-out, they were both holding the same exact pieces of clothing.  "We have the same taste," Brendon giggled.

"We do."

They bought the jackets, put them on, and braced themselves for the cold.  The rental car place required a walk outside to get to, only across a parking lot.  It was dark and far below freezing, ice and a thin layer of snow covering the ground.  After only a few steps, Brendon slipped and fell, right on his tailbone.  "Ow, fuck."

"Oh, shit, are you alright?" Ryan said, but there was a smile curling on his lips.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Ryan reached out his hands to help Brendon up.  "Be careful," Ryan chuckled, slipping an arm around Brendon's shoulders.

They managed to get to their rental car, both slipping a few times but not fully falling again.

"Do you want me to drive?" Ryan offered.  Brendon nodded.

"If that's okay with you."

"Yeah.  The roads are gonna be hell, and you're already tired."

The heat in the car couldn't seem to warm them up fast enough.  Ryan's fingers were tingling when he pulled his gloves off, and the steering wheel was ice cold.  Brendon was half asleep before Ryan started driving.  "We're only half an hour away," Ryan assured.

But it took over an hour to arrive.  The roads were icy, keeping Ryan on edge the whole time.  The couple got into a fight soon after leaving, snapping back and forth at each other.

"Shit, _fuck!_ " Ryan shouted without meaning to.  The car kept sliding on the ice, so they were almost going off the road and into a snow bank every time there was a slight curve.  Brendon jolted awake at Ryan yelling.

"What happened?" Brendon croaked.

"Nothing, nothing—yet," Ryan said through clenched teeth.  He was keeping a white-knuckled grip on the wheel.

"Is everything okay?  What's wrong?"

"It's just—ice on the roads and—people being assholes! Just cut me off, fuck, fuck!"  Ryan slammed on the brakes, yet the car kept sliding.  "Fuck—" Ryan growled, desperately trying to keep the car on the road without crashing into anyone else.

"Do you want me to drive?" Brendon asked.

"No, it's not like we can pull over—FUCK!"

"Shh, calm down."

"I'm not gonna calm down—HOLYFUCKINGSHIT HANG ON!" Ryan yelled as they had to speed forward to prevent the car behind them from slamming into them.

"Just slow down, Ryan—"

"Brendon, just—"

"You're doing fine—"

"Brendon, _shut the fuck up_ right now, okay?"

Brendon remained completely silent, unable to stop the pointless anger bubbling inside of him.  He trusted Ryan to not get them killed and thought he was overreacting.  Ryan snapping at Brendon always triggered something inside of him that nobody else could.  He stared out the window at the road and the falling snow, listening to Ryan cursing next to him.

The cottage-like place they drove to was desolate, amongst only a few other identical houses and a run-down gas station.  There was a heated garage to keep the car in.  Ryan rested his forehead on the steering wheel when they parked, his breathing a bit heavy.  He stayed like that for a few moments, regaining his bearings.  Brendon watched him.  Ryan looked up and over at him, and Brendon raised a questioning eyebrow.  Ryan's expression seemed to melt.  "Oh, Brendon, I'm so sorry.  I—I didn't mean it, I—"

"I know.  It's okay," Brendon forgave instantly.  "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, that was stressful.  I'm sorry," Ryan apologized again.

"You're fine.  Did you want to go inside?" Brendon asked.

"Oh, yeah—sure," Ryan said, suddenly nervous.

The cottage was small, modern, and warm, most importantly.  They walked into the living room, furnished with a nicely sized fireplace.  Right outside the living room was a dining room—a table to seat four with a rack of candles in the middle.  The kitchen was separated from the dining room by a wall.  It was huge, a dream kitchen for a chef.  Although neither Ryan nor Brendon cooked, the mere luxury of it was dazzling.  Between the dining room and kitchen was the double-doorway to the master bedroom—the only bedroom in the house.  Another fireplace was set in the bedroom, across from the neatly made king sized bed.  The master bathroom was complete with a large, tiled shower, porcelain bathtub, and double vanities.

"Is it alright?" Ryan asked after they'd walked through the whole thing.

"I love it," Brendon said.

"Okay, good.  I was worried,  I just want you to like it."

"I do," Brendon confirmed.  It was true, the place was beautiful, but Brendon had a nagging feeling because he hadn't done something like this for Ryan.

So, Brendon tried again as they were about to fall asleep, Ryan curled into his side under the soft sheets—"Babe?"

"Hmm?" Ryan hummed.

"What do you want for Christmas?"

There was a slight pause before Ryan said, "This.  Right here.  How it is right now.  That's it."

Brendon hid the disappointment with planting a kiss to the top of Ryan's head.  "You got it."

<<<<<>>>>>

It was pitch black in the bedroom when Brendon woke up.  He didn't feel Ryan beside him, and he was freezing.  His chest and legs were bare, no sheets or blankets covering him.  He rolled over to see Ryan deeply asleep on his side of the bed, all the covers tucked around him.  Brendon was still tired, and, with no intention of waking Ryan, he moved closer, snuggling against the blankets as best as he could.  Brendon drifted, not all the way asleep but not fully conscious.

Ryan stirred and found Brendon clung to his back, no blankets covering him.  Ryan quietly slipped out of bed and pulled the covers over him, already warm from Ryan. Ryan resisted the urge to kiss him.

He made a pot of coffee and turned the heat up more.  It was nearing ten in the morning, but it was still completely dark outside.

Brendon mouthed Ryan's name before opening his eyes, reaching across the bed in an attempt to find him.  He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around, momentarily bewildered by the unfamiliar room and empty bed.  The room wasn't as cold as Brendon was expecting when he crawled out of bed.  "Ryan?" He called, padding out of the bedroom.

Ryan stood in front of the living room window, with a long blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a mug of coffee in hand.  He turned around to look at Brendon approaching him.  "Good morning.  Come look at our view," Ryan said.  He opened the blanket to wrap around both of them.

They observed the fluffy snow heavily falling in the dark.  The road leading into the garage was coated with almost a foot of snow, and it wasn't showing any signs of stopping.  On the sides, there were wavy snow drifts, smooth and untouched.  "It's gorgeous," Brendon said.

"Yeah.  I don't really want to go out in it, though," Ryan said.

"No, it's too cold.  We don't need to be anywhere, do we?"

"No."

"Then, I guess, it just looks like we're trapped from all this snow, and absolutely can't leave the house today," Brendon said with a faux pout.

"Oh, no way," Ryan agreed.  Brendon slipped an arm around Ryan's waist, and Ryan turned to kiss him.  Brendon smiled into the kiss, accepting the way Ryan was gnawing at his mouth.  They parted by a few inches for Ryan to ask, "Did you want the rest of this coffee?" which he was still holding.

"No thanks," Brendon hastily answered.

"Didn't think so."  They locked at the lips, Brendon's hands pushing gently on his chest, leading them to sink into the couch together.

"This is the best idea you've ever had," Brendon said.

"I think you're right," Ryan said, tipping his head for Brendon's waiting lips.

<<<<<>>>>>

"I love you, and you're really, really hot, but I can't do another round," Ryan panted, collapsing next to Brendon on the bed.  They'd been going at it for several hours now, Brendon never running out of energy and unable to keep his hands off Ryan.  Both were sweating, hypersensitive, trembling slightly.  Brendon was smiling, lazily splayed across Ryan's body.

"That's okay, babe.  I wanna be able to walk like a normal person tomorrow, so . . ."

"Yeah?" Ryan said.  "What're we doing tomorrow, then?"

"I think I'll break my hips if we do this all day again tomorrow," Brendon claimed.  Ryan laughed.  "You're so intense."

"And you seduce me too much for me to resist you.  You don't even know what you do to me."

Brendon hummed into Ryan's chest, an approval to the compliment.  "You're fucking gorgeous," Brendon whispered back, his equivalent to Ryan.

There was a silence for both of them to catch their breaths, heartbeats to slow, bodies to calm down.  Ryan sighed and pulled Brendon even closer to him.  "How are you not exhausted?" He said.

"You didn't make me work that hard to get what I want," Brendon said.

"Sometimes you deserve to just relax and let me . . ." Ryan said.  The beam on Brendon's face was buried in Ryan's chest.  Mainly to himself, Ryan said, "I'm starving, but getting food means moving, and it's not really worth it."

Brendon looked up at him.  "I'll get you something.  What do you want?"

Ryan looked down at him, surprised.  "No, don't.  I got it."  He began pushing himself up, but Brendon lightly grabbed his hips.

"Don't get up.  I'll be right back," Brendon hushed.  Ryan watched Brendon stand up, legs shaking.  He took a step and fell back onto the bed, back in an arch.  He winced in pain.  "Damn it, Ryan," he then giggled.

"Alright, come here," Ryan drawled fondly.  He pulled Brendon all the way up onto the bed.  Brendon laid back on the pillows and Ryan kissed his forehead.  "Just rest for awhile before you try walking again."

"Okay."

"I'll go get something," Ryan said.  He walked in the kitchen to face the fact that there was no food in the house.  Instead, he made two mugs of sweet hot chocolate to bring back to Brendon.  Brendon took it without question and thanked Ryan, who turned the fireplace on with the simple flick of a switch.  He crawled back in bed, pressing himself up against Brendon.

"Thank you," Brendon said.  "Fuck," he mumbled, nuzzling his mouth in Ryan's neck.

"What?"

"I really haven't done anything for you this Christmas."

"Are you really still stressing about that?"

"Yes!  You've done so much for me, and you deserve anything you want."

"I don't want anything, baby boy.  You've already given me anything I could ever want."

"Are you sure?" Brendon persisted.

"I'm sure."

"You didn't buy me anything else, right? _Right?_ "

"Well . . ." Ryan trailed off, looking down.

Brendon groaned, and Ryan amusedly ran his fingers through Brendon's hair.  "I've got to figure out something," Brendon said.

"Really, it's fine."

"We're going shopping tomorrow," Brendon hastily decided.  "We have no food in here anyway and we can go to the mall or something if you want."

"Okay," Ryan said, brushing a light kiss low on Brendon's neck.

<<<<<>>>>>

In the middle of thoughtfully winding his scarf around his neck, Ryan stopped dead, dropping the end of the fabric to trail down to his hips.  "Brendon," he said, staring at his boyfriend across the hallway, "I think I know what I want for Christmas."  Whether it was a shy or mischievous smile creeping on Ryan's lips, Brendon couldn't tell.

Before answering, Brendon's thoughts were some swirl of, _Are you fucking kidding me, Ryan, you've had all this time to tell me—?_ And, _I'll buy him an entire island if he wants it . . ._ "What is it?" Brendon asked.

Ryan had gone back to tying his scarf while he spoke.  "Just . . . Two scarves."

_You've kept me in suspense this whole time just for that?_  "Anything specific?" Brendon mused.

"Um . . . hmm . . ." Ryan was slowly slipping his gloves on now.  "How about . . . Something soft. Silky, not all like this heavy wool, you know?  And maybe in black."  He looked up at Brendon again.

"That's one, and for the other?"

"The exact same."

At that moment, all Brendon wanted to do was give Ryan whatever made him happy, not even think to question why Ryan wanted two identical scarves.  It didn't even matter.  "Alright," Brendon complied with a smile.

It was Brendon's top priority to buy Ryan his gift that day at the mall without Ryan knowing.  The mall was packed with Christmas shoppers and the lines in every store were ridiculously long.  Brendon was stressed again.  The two slowly wandered around, not buying anything but just observing.  So they didn't get separated in the crowds, they wove their fingers together.  "What are we saying today if we get caught?" Ryan asked, swinging their arms slightly between them.

"As long as we don't run into a fan, then you just get to be my boyfriend and I get to be yours."

"That's a relief," Ryan said.  He stopped them in front of a pet store, which had mannequins of dogs for elf costumes.  He looked at Brendon with a light in his eyes, bordering on a childish excitement.  "Can we go look?" He asked.

"Of course," Brendon indulged.

A girl in her late teens greeted them, cheerful.  She held a small dog with a pointed hat on, which started barking upon Ryan and Brendon entering the store.  The girl hushed the dog.  "If you need help finding anything, let me know," she said.  "Happy holidays!"

Ryan tugged Brendon around the store with enthusiasm.  Brendon had to admit that he was smiling over how cute some of the accessories were, over how cute Ryan's reactions were.  They reached the back of the store where a whole wall was taken up by cages for cats.  Ryan was drawn to them; he skitted his fingertips over the plastic surface of the cages to catch the cats' attention.  "Do you want to go back and play with them?" a new worker asked Ryan.

"I'd love to," Ryan answered.  "Babe?" He looked to Brendon for approval.

"You go ahead," Brendon said.  "I've got to go to the restroom, I'll be right back."

Brendon walked to the front of the store.  He was taking his chance to sneak in his gift for Ryan.  "Do you know of anywhere that sells accessory stuff?  Like, scarves, you know?" He asked the girl.

"Oh, yes, two doors down is a really sweet boutique," she provided.

"Thank you so much."

He hurried over to the shop.  The air was thick with layers of perfume.  Over half the decorative pieces of clothing reminded Brendon strongly of Ryan, but he had to stay focused on the specific thing he was buying.  Shelves upon shelves were overflowing with airy scarves.  Brendon snagged two black ones before he could get distracted by the red-brown selection he knew Ryan would also enjoy.

He was trying—and failing—to not get impatient with the long line he was forced to wait in.  The woman behind him was exceedingly talkative, but she thankfully didn't recognize him.  She looked to be in her sixties or seventies.  "So, are you up here visiting this Christmas?" She asked.

"Yeah, for the week."

"Do you have a lot of family in the area?"

"No, not at all."

"Oh, that's a shame.  Four of my kids are nearby, my grandkids too.  It's nice.  One moved away, I think."

"You think?  To where?" Brendon said vaguely.

"To California, but I can't be sure.  We haven't spoken in several years now."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's good riddance.  Trust me.  He's not welcomed in my home any more.  He came out as gay a few years ago, so naturally I don't have anything to do with him.  I can't have that around in my life," she said solemnly, shaking her head.

Brendon blinked at her, at a loss for words.  He moved up in line, placing Ryan's scarves on the register counter to pay for them.  "Anyway," the lady sighed, "who are these for?" She gestured to the scarves.

He cleared his throat.  "My boyfriend," he snapped.  He snatched the paid-for scarves up and stormed out, fuming with anger.  Before going back to Ryan, he tucked the scarves on the inside of his jacket, hidden.

His heart melted with adoration when he found Ryan.  He was sitting on the ground, fawning over the three cats surrounding him.  Two were in his lap, paws up on his chest.  The third was nuzzling into Ryan's hand.  Ryan was somehow giving them all attention.  "Havin' fun?" Brendon said, leaning against the doorframe.

Ryan looked up.  "Aren't they cute?"

"Sure."  They often had the playful argument of whether cats or dogs were better for pets.  Brendon fought for dogs, while Ryan for cats.

"You wanna say hi?"  Ryan scooped up a bundle of fur on legs.

"I guess."  Brendon half heartedly petted the cat in Ryan's arms.

"Brendon, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."  He pecked Ryan on the lips.  "I love you."

"Love you too."

"Did you wanna walk around some more? Or stay here with the cats for awhile longer?"

"We can go," Ryan said.  He gently put the cat down, scratching between its ears before standing upright again.

Brendon huddled closer into Ryan's side than he normally would, wrapping an arm around Ryan's waist while they walked around.  "Are we flaunting that we're together now?" Ryan said into Brendon's ear.

"Why the fuck not?" Brendon muttered, pushing his lips into Ryan's skin for a defiant neck kiss.

<<<<<>>>>>

Come Christmas morning, Brendon woke up alone in bed.  He hated it when he slept through Ryan getting up—would much prefer to curl farther into Ryan's arms and pretend to sleep for another hour.  But if Ryan had already gotten up, Brendon knew it was probably late morning and he should get up and join Ryan.  It was warm in the bedroom, the fireplace was on in contrast to the freezing wind and snow falling out in the dark.  Brendon yawned and dragged himself out of the warm bed to look for Ryan.

But Ryan was nowhere to be found.  Brendon checked in the kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, and even the garage, but Ryan had seemingly disappeared.  Brendon frowned, trying not to let worry get the best of him.  He called out Ryan's name to be met with a pounding on the front door.  He looked down at himself, only wearing boxers, but decided he really didn't care and walked to answer the door.

The door was locked, and as Brendon tried to flip the lock, it wouldn't budge.  He tried again, pushing the latch harder, and water dripped out of the latch and down the door.  He huffed, eyebrows furrowed.

The door was stuck shut, the lock frozen with ice.

Brendon looked out the peephole to see Ryan, dressed up in his winter clothes, positively shivering.  Brendon cursed under his breath.  He tried pulling the lock a few more times, but it remained just as frozen.  He pursed his lips, knowing that it would take forever to melt the ice in the lock.

Thinking fast, he ran to throw on a shirt and shoes.  He unlocked and opened the garage door, walking out into the snow.  It was far below zero, and Brendon gasped in the cold, his legs and arms still exposed.  "Ryan!" He called in the wind.  "Come here."

Ryan rushed across the front of the house to the garage.  Brendon grabbed him and dragged him into the warm house.  Ryan was shaking, taking gasping breaths.  There were patches of snow stuck to his clothes, his gloves soaked through with snow.  "Oh fuck, baby," Brendon rambled.  Brendon's fingertips, slightly numb with cold, worked on getting Ryan's snow filled clothes off.

Ryan whimpered as Brendon pulled the gloves off.  "It stings," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  How long have you been outside?  Fuck, what were you doing out?"

"It's been a few hours."

"You probably have frostbite now," Brendon sighed.  Ryan was completely naked, and Brendon grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the bedroom.  "Shit, shit, I don't fucking know what to do," Brendon said in a worried rush.  He fetched a towel and dried Ryan's dripping hair.  Ryan was still shivering, teeth chattering.  "Just—here, dry clothes." Ryan dressed, his breathing calming down.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's okay,"  Ryan told Brendon.

"What the hell were you doing out?" Brendon exclaimed.

Ryan smirked.  "Oh, you're gonna be pissed.  I woke up early and went back to the mall to buy you something, because I saw this thing there the other day that I wanted to get you for Christmas, but I couldn't because you were with me."

Brendon shook his head.  "You've gotta be kidding me," he laughed.  "And you got locked out in the snow for hours."

"I know, I know.  Thanks for letting me in."

"You think I would've just left you out there?" Brendon joked.  "Come back to bed."

They tangled themselves around each other and the sheets of the bed.  "I am tired now," Ryan exhaled.  He gave Brendon a kiss on the cheek, lazy, eyes closed.  He continued to scatter kisses on Brendon's face until he found his lips.  Brendon pulled Ryan closer to deepen the kiss and give him more warmth.

Ryan napped a little bit, staying in a state between awake and asleep for nearly two hours while Brendon laid beside him, underneath him as he sprawled half his body over Brendon's chest.

"It's Christmas, my love," Ryan murmured.

"I know . . ."  Brendon's eyes popped open.  "You wanna open presents?" He said, running a hand through Ryan's hair and down the back of his neck.

"I think we should eat first, but yeah."

They ate a small breakfast, staring outside peacefully.  It was silent until Brendon initiated conversation.  "I don't think I could ever live in Alaska," he said.

"No?"

"I mean, it's great being here right now, don't get me wrong—just the two of us with no obligations—but I don't think I could live with this much snow and this much darkness, you know?"

"Vegas blooded," Ryan provided.

"Yeah, you too."

Ryan bit the inside of his cheek, in thought.  "You know what?  Screw waiting.  I want to give you your thing."

"Okay, if you want to."

"I'll be right back."

Ryan went out to the car while Brendon found the scarves.  He had hidden them in a kitchen cabinet where Ryan wouldn't see them, and had put them in a small gift bag.

"For you," Brendon said when Ryan returned, handing him the gift bag.

"And for you," Ryan said, offering up a tiny wrapped box.  "You open yours first."

Brendon tore the paper in a neat way that made Ryan laugh—as carefree as Brendon was, he hated any type of mess—and pulled out a case for glasses.  Inside was a pair of tinted sunglasses, square shaped, black frames with a flare on the sides.  Expensive as fuck, Brendon thought.  "Oh, Ryan," he whispered, picking up the glasses as if they would fall apart if he held them at the wrong angle.

"Try them on," Ryan urged.  Brendon positioned them on his face, vision hued a dark brown.  They fit well, and Brendon decided he liked them.  A lot.

"Well?" He asked, looking at Ryan.

"You look gorgeous," Ryan said with a smug grin.

"You know you didn't have to," Brendon said.

"Yes, I did.  I saw them at the mall and was like, 'Those would look great on Brendon's face.'  And they do.  They look perfect."

"I'm flattered you think that.  And you're probably going to steal these half the time, anyway," Brendon teased.

"You caught me there."

Brendon put the glasses back in their case.  "Now you open yours," Brendon said.

Ryan pulled the tissue paper out and held the scarves.  He was apparently fascinated by them, turning them over in his hands and feeling the fabric between his fingertips.  "This is . . . exactly want I was thinking of, B," he said.

"I'm glad you like them, but why, you know, two identical scarves?"

Ryan averted his attention from the scarves to look at Brendon, and he licked his lips.  He rounded the table, swung a leg over both of Brendon's, and seated himself in Brendon's lap, facing each other.  "So, imagine yourself, tied up to the bed, and me, fucking you exactly how I want, and there's nothing you can do about it," Ryan said.  Brendon's mouth went dry, feeling aroused when he least expected Ryan to spring  on him like this.  Ryan continued, "And what are the scarves for?  Your restraints, lover."

<<<<<>>>>>

And so, it wasn't long before Brendon was naked, hard, and tied up so his wrists were pinned above him to the headboard.  Brendon had been the first one to suggest such tactics—after the time Ryan held his wrists to the mattress and Brendon came faster and harder than either of them expected.  Yet this was the first time they'd used proper restraints.  The scarves were irritatingly soft on Brendon's wrists, making him forget they were there when he tried to pull on them.

Ryan had left him alone in the bed to retrieve more pillows for Brendon's neck to be supported with.  The wait seemed never ending to Brendon, while he couldn't do anything beside think about what he would be getting in a few moments.  He broke out in a sweat as his cock grew harder.  He bit his bottom lip until it was raw.

When Ryan returned, he stopped in the doorway.  "You have no idea how hot you are," he said, looking Brendon up and down.

"Why are you still wearing clothes?" Brendon demanded.

"Eager, are we?" Ryan said.  He gently slipped a pillow under Brendon's shoulders, another under his skull.  Brendon's hair was sticking to his forehead, and Ryan brushed it back.  The touch was addicting to Brendon, stretching his neck towards Ryan's hand.  Ryan smirked.  He reached up to touch Brendon's palm, pulled the scarf up Brendon's wrist a fraction of an inch.  "Are these okay?" He asked Brendon.  The last thing he wanted to do was make Brendon uncomfortable.

"It's good, Ryan, it's good.  Can you just—"

"Yes, okay."  Ryan bent to meet Brendon's waiting lips, not breaking the kiss to straddle him, hands sinking into the pillow on either side of Brendon's head.  Brendon's teeth jerked into Ryan's lips when he pulled on the scarves.  Ryan broke away.  "What?"

"Take your fucking clothes off," Brendon said through gritted teeth.  "I can't do it for you."

"I could make you come without all of that."

"You wouldn't."

"No," Ryan admitted.  "That takes the fun out of it."  He kissed Brendon again, licking over Brendon's bottom lip.  "Your lips are all torn up.  Be gentle," Ryan said.

"Baby, come on—"

"Hush.  You'll get what you want."

Brendon fell silent, relaxing into the excessive amount of pillows.  He looked up at Ryan, despising Ryan's clothing.  Ryan moved his lips down Brendon's neck, kissing the skin and eventually sucking and biting.  Brendon's eyes fluttered shut.  Continuing to nibble Brendon's skin, Ryan moved down to Brendon's collarbone and chest while he grinded his hips on Brendon's cock.  "Fuck, you're gonna make me—" Brendon started.

"Not just yet.  I could ride you if we wanted to change things up a bit.  I could blow you, but I don't typically do that."  Brendon rocked his hips up impatiently.

"I will if you want me to," Brendon said, switching it around so he was the one seducing Ryan.  "Come here."  A slow movement of Brendon's hips and Ryan was struggling not to give in to Brendon's seduction.

"Shh . . . You're not doing anything."  Ryan proceeded to kiss and sometimes bruise down Brendon's chest, to his ribs.  "I've tried rimming you before, but you got impatient with that."

Brendon let out a noise, a whine from the top of his throat.  His cock was throbbing, more and more with the closer Ryan's lips were getting.

"What to do, my love, what to do?" Ryan muttered.  He deliberately suckled the pale skin above Brendon's belly button until he knew it would leave a dark bruise, causing more little whines to emit from Brendon—desperately trying to hold louder noises in.  "More of these on you will be good," Ryan said, tapping the marks he had already made on Brendon.

Brendon merely nodded in agreement, wide eyed.

Ryan trailed only light kisses around to Brendon's side, the dip of his waist.  He nibbled on that soft skin, but not enough to leave a mark.  He then mouthed at Brendon's left hipbone, with the intent of bruising; he did the same on the other side to match.  "Your thighs are entirely too pale, don't you think?" Ryan claimed.  Brendon spread his legs for Ryan to kiss his inner thighs. Most of the bruises there were left with Ryan's teeth, and Brendon wasn't complaining.  Just the opposite.  His cock had started leaking, and he simply couldn't remain silent any longer.

"Ryan, please."  Ryan hadn't even touched Brendon's cock and he was still wearing clothes, much to Brendon's dismay.  "Ryan, if you spend another minute just doing this—" He strained his shoulders with the intention of peeling Ryan's shirt off, only to be stopped by the satiny cloth. "Oh, oh . . ." Brendon resigned.

Ryan stood up, and Brendon blatantly stared at the bulge in his pants.  Ryan removed his shirt, dropping  it to the ground.  Brendon was going crazy with the urge and inability to touch Ryan, pull him closer.  "I'm not even going to touch your cock," Ryan said.

"But—"

"I want to make you come without doing that."

Ryan stepped out of his pants, staring down Brendon's body again.  He stroked himself a few times, breathing heavier—just to tease Brendon.  And it was working.  Ryan put his lips to Brendon's neck and positioned himself on top of him once again.  "Ryan, love-errr, give me your hand, give me your fingers," Brendon slurred, words tumbling out in a mess of lust.  He swiveled his hips underneath Ryan.  "I need you so bad, baby, want you . . ."

Finally giving in to Brendon, Ryan brushed his fingertips over Brendon's swollen lips.  Brendon sucked two of Ryan's long fingers into his mouth, treating them like he would Ryan's cock—tongue dragging around, slicking them up.  "Talented mouth," Ryan said, pulling his fingers away.  Brendon's eyes were half lidded, dark, blinking slow as he looked at Ryan expectantly.  Ryan sidled down Brendon's body, reclaiming the flesh of Brendon's thighs—Ryan believed it would be an utter waste not to.

Before Ryan could even ask if he was ready, Brendon begun begging again.  "If you're not gonna touch me, then fuck me, oh, please—I need to—" Brendon was cut off by his own breathless groan as Ryan put two fingers in at once.  He wasn't too tight; he hadn't taken Ryan that long ago.  Ryan hit Brendon's prostate, drawing a whimper and writhing from him.  Brendon had to use every ounce of self control to not let go and come all over himself right then.  He knew how close he was after all Ryan had put him through.

"Baby, fuck me, please, now.  I can't—it's too much, please."  The way Ryan was curling his fingers inside of Brendon was driving him out of his mind.  Ryan carelessly pulled his fingers out.

"Do you need any m—" Ryan started.

"No, nothing, the only thing I need is you, fucking me, right now."

Ryan repositioned himself between Brendon's legs.  He sunk his cock into Brendon, sighing at the heat around him.  Brendon gasped, eyes rolling back in his head with the feeling of being filled.

"Move—move your hips," Brendon urged, head thrown back into the pillows.  Ryan coaxed Brendon's legs to wrap around his waist.  Because of how Brendon was tied up, he was unable to rock his hips back into Ryan's, unable to push Ryan deeper inside of him on his own accord.

He had to ask for it.

"Deeper," Brendon panted.  "Deeper, come on . . ."  Ryan thrusted harder, and the room seemed to get hotter.  Brendon groaned involuntarily each time Ryan pushed in.  He thought of the place he was in—helpless to the pleasure Ryan was giving him, the familiar burn of being pushed open, and that was an extra turn on.  Ryan was making noises, too, noises that Brendon was causing him to make, and Brendon loved that.

The head of Ryan's cock pressed into Brendon's prostate, and Brendon came, streaking across his and Ryan's stomach and chest.  He flat out moaned, not holding anything back.  With the contraction of muscles around Ryan's cock that Brendon's orgasm brought, Ryan came as well, cock still buried deep inside Brendon.

Ryan slowly pulled out.  Brendon had gone limp, body completely relaxed.  His hands were still tied above his head, accentuating the heaving of his chest.  All he had to do was cast a bleary look at Ryan, and Ryan's trembling hands were there to untie the scarves.  Brendon's arms flopped heavily to his sides on the mattress.  Ryan laid beside him.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered, voice low.  "The best sex I've ever had.  Better than anything you could've bought."

Brendon, who had no idea how Ryan was able to think straight, rolled over to be closer to Ryan.  "Merry Christmas," he managed to say back, before passing out from physical exhaustion.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate comments more than I appreciate air.


End file.
